


Big Good Wolf

by MaverickWerewolf



Category: Original Work, Wulfgard
Genre: Gen, Non-sexual vore, Orphans, Protective vore, Soft Vore, Tom learning about himself, Vore, Werewolves, safe vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26295607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaverickWerewolf/pseuds/MaverickWerewolf
Summary: They say wolves are evil - especially in the fairytales. Tom always believed that, too.But they say a lot of things.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	Big Good Wolf

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Coop500](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coop500/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Coop!
> 
> I was going to write you a gift fic of this exact nature, then you essentially suggested it to me, so I figured I had made a good choice.
> 
> To all other readers: a fair WARNING that a child is vored (swallowed whole and alive) in this story for protection purposes, ala fairytale wolves and whatnot. It's nothing you haven't read a few dozen times over when you were a child, except subverted to make the wolf not a stupid evil villain, because I like positive wolf portrayals.  
> This is not remotely sexual (I do not write any sexual vore).  
> However, if that disturbs you for whatever reason, then go no further. I have plenty of non-vore works.

Night. Long since had it cast its shadow over the face of Achaea, tempered only by the bright moon – broad, bold, and full – that hung high in the sky, dismissing every star around it with the force of its light. And long since had Men fallen into the belief that monsters had been all but defeated or had simply never existed in the first place, lulling the civilized regions of the world to apathy, tempting them to dismiss those who would protect them from what went bump in the night, what sought their flesh or even their souls.

But they weren’t always right about monsters, those Men. Not all of them were the same.

Not all of them were dead, either.

In the Heartland of the Achaean Empire, one would be hard pressed to find too much crime, too much killing or pillaging. The Empire kept a good handle on that kind of thing. Well, most of the time. Tonight, that was different, too.

It was different in particular for a set of bandits who, when burning down the most secluded farmhouse they could find, bit off more than they could chew. Mostly because they decided it would be a good business opportunity to kidnap an orphan they had found living in the barn there. Just a little girl. Very little. Not even a teenager.

That was the last mistake they ever made.

Really, who could’ve expected the biggest werewolf anybody had ever imagined appearing from nowhere, black fur shimmering in the moonlight, and slaughtering them all? Not those guys. _They_ hadn’t expected it. The little girl definitely hadn’t expected it.

Screams pierced the night. Screaming. Shouting…

Then a howl. Long, dangerous, and singing of rage and sorrow untold in even the darkest of legends.

The cry of a werewolf.

  


  


When Tom awoke in the morning, he got a whole lot of things he didn’t expect, himself. Like a bad headache, which wasn’t too uncommon for him these days really. The stomach, though… yeah, that was pretty different.

Slowly, he sat up from where he’d collapsed on his side, undoubtedly from the pain of turning human again. As soon as he started propping himself up, he knew something was wrong, because he felt like he’d swallowed a rock. A very big… kind of fleshy rock with— a heartbeat? And it was moving, just a little?

He froze. Swallowed quietly. And, admittedly, became almost afraid to move. Reluctantly, he flicked his eyes down to his middle. Not only did he feel like he’d swallowed something… big, but he looked like it, too. Instead of his usual washboard abs – because, yes, he had _great_ abs – he stared down at a round, bulging belly. Not a terribly small one, either. Not _huge_ , but – not small.

That wasn’t right _at all_.

“Okay…” Tom said under his breath, completely to himself, as he tried to collect his wits. He felt like he must’ve left those all the way back in Illikon, though. Months ago, probably. Who knew? He wasn’t exactly counting moons since all this started, and—

His stomach moved. Or the thing _in_ his stomach moved. And right then he wondered who was freaking out more, him or whatever he had swallowed, because he wasn’t exactly accustomed to how sensitive his insides were and having those touched and watching movement under his skin and _oh gods what the hell had he done?_

Okay. Calm. Breathe. He was breathing. He had this.

“I really don’t know if you’re like an animal or what,” Tom said, sounding as amicable as possible given he was talking to his presumed meal, “but uh, if you’re still alive, then… ah, hi. How ya doing?”

 _How you doing?_ Really?

“Oh wow, you talk now,” said a tiny, muffled voice. Tiny as in – as in tiny. Actually tiny. Small. Young. Like a kid. A child. A little girl – child.

He’d _eaten_ a _child_.

With an instant rush of pure nausea and a heaping of self-hatred, Tom made a strained noise in his throat that really didn’t sound very manly at all.

“What’s wrong?” the kid asked. Perfectly calm and innocent and sweet, like he had just made a nasty face at a piece of candy and she wanted to know what was up before she tried her own. “Oh! You’re probably worried about me, I guess. Well, I’m okay.”

“That’s… that’s good,” Tom rasped, so hoarse anybody could’ve thought he’d swallowed sandpaper instead. “I’m, ah – I’m glad. Awesome. Uh…?”

“It was scary at first,” she clarified. “You’re really big and _very_ mean. I always heard wolves are bad, but you saved me. Fairytales were silly all along. Are you a werewolf? Is that why you can talk now?”

Tom scratched at his jaw and very slowly sat upright. The kid in his belly squirmed at his movement, clearly trying to get comfortable again. It raked some fresh claws over his conscience.

“I – ah, yeah. I am,” Tom answered slowly. “I’m… sorry I ate you, kid. I’ll get you outta there, okay?”

“Oh, there’s no need for that right now. I’m fine in here, really. It’s nice. I’m safe in here, after all.”

Tom stared so far into space he almost thought he could see the edge of the world.

“Come again?” he said dumbly, when really he kind of wanted to say _Are you sure you don_ _’t want me to cough you up so you can run along and do fun kid things instead of hang around in a monster’s stomach like a kid out of a fairytale?_

“What does _that_ mean?” she answered, her tone readily indicating she was making a face at him.

“I mean – what?”

“I’m _safe_ in here. I haven’t been safe in a long time, mister… big not-bad wolf, sir.”

“Tom,” he corrected almost reflexively.

“Tom. That’s a nice name, I like that name.” She paused and instantly turned something between morose and embarrassed. “I don’t have a name.”

“You don’t have a _name?_ ” Tom blurted.

“No. Nobody wanted me. They gave me a name at the orphanage, but I didn’t like that one, so I decided I don’t have one now.”

Orphan. Yeah… he knew how that felt. Long story. But suddenly he felt a little – more than a little – sympathetic. And okay, just a little paternal. No no, wait – not _that_ , but like a brother. Yeah, that was better, a brother. Big brother. Very big brother.

Tom frowned. “Do you _want_ a name?”

“I’ll get one someday! I hope. See, I was trying to get to this nice orphanage. I met this monster hunter lady—” Tom winced, “—and she was super nice, and she told me about this orphanage where _she_ grew up, and she said it’s in Piera so I was trying to go there.”

Oh boy. Tom chewed his lip briefly. “Do you even know where that is?”

The little girl didn’t say anything for a second. Paused. Then squirmed. Shifted around again.

And finally admitted, “Nnno…”

Something in him lit up. Tom scrubbed a hand over his roughly stubbled chin and got to his feet, careful not to jostle his— passenger. He dusted himself off, then went looking around for his clothing stash. After a while of this whole werewolf thing, he was starting to get it down to a system: stash his gear somewhere before he turned so that he could find it in the morning. The Wolf usually seemed to take him back around to that area. Maybe it was their unspoken agreement not to get him humiliated and killed when he woke up in human form the next morning. It went something like, _please don_ _’t leave me unarmed and naked in the middle of nowhere._

Hey, at least they had come to _some_ kind of agreement, right?

“I can take you there,” Tom said brightly, for a guy who just realized he’d… he didn’t want to think ‘eaten,’ because he clearly hadn’t hurt her. And wasn’t going to. Somehow. Maybe this was a werewolf power; who knew? He certainly didn’t.

“You can? You know how to get there?”

“’Course I know how to get there. I’m a knight. Sir Tom Vincent Drake, Dragon-Blooded, Demon Slayer of Illikon, at your service.”

 _And also the Beast of Illikon,_ he added to himself, quite miserably. _And an exile. Under pain of death._

But the kid just gasped in that way only kids do when something is truly awesome and said breathlessly, “ _Wow_. You’re a knight, too? I didn’t think knights turned into… um…”

“Monsters?” Tom supplied, voice coming out a little weak – and very defeated.

“No,” the girl replied cheerily. “Wolves. Wolf-men. You’re not really a wolf.”

“Not really human, either,” Tom muttered under his breath, feeling a sharp stab of self-pity.

“You seem pretty personish to me.”

“You’re in my _stomach_.”

The pause was absolutely pregnant with possibility, and Tom only thought of it that way because it was great alliteration, not because he generally liked throwing around ‘pregnant’ to describe anything other than its literal meaning.

“Okay,” the little girl said. Tom had to laugh. “But,” she added, “that doesn’t make you _mean_. It just makes you… different!”

“That’s one way to put it, huh?”

“And I think you have a nice stomach. It’s better than… moldy hay.”

“Ew, you were sleeping in _mold?_ ” Tom remarked as he started walking, finished pulling all his clothes and gear on. “So you’re getting my belly all nasty? This is my— _me_ we’re talking about. You’re not allowed back in here until you’ve had a bath, young lady.”

She laughed too then. Tom had a brief moment of _this is the weirdest thing I_ _’ve ever done in my life_ , but… that was fine, right? Not like it was bad.

He felt something odd then: a hand. Her hand, pressing gently against his inside, pushing outward. Tom glanced down at the little bulge she made pushing like that, and for some reason he figured the right thing to do was to put his hand over it. Over hers.

They stayed like that for a while, even while he kept walking. Then she said, “You’re nice, Sir Tom.”

Against his conflicted conscience still stuck between _you saved a kid and you_ _’re keeping her safe_ and _you_ _’re a monster and you ate her alive_ , Tom managed a lopsided grin. “I try to be,” he replied.

“You do a good job,” she said rather factually, though her voice drifted off into a yawn and her hand fell away from where it pressed against his stomach wall.

Somehow, he wondered if he should be as touched as he was right now. To say he was deeply touched was an understatement – no puns intended.

So he patted his belly, pushing down just enough to make an impression and gingerly rubbing his hand around before he let his own hand drop, too. Time to focus on getting a move-on… preferably before night fell again. Piera wasn’t too far, and he could move fast, stomach passenger or not. He’d reach that orphanage and get her a decent place to stay in no time. Get her to safety.

“Get some rest, kid,” Tom said softly. “I’ll take you home.”

**Author's Note:**

> [If you enjoy my writing, be sure to check out more (especially my original works) on my blog!](https://maverick-werewolf.tumblr.com/)


End file.
